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Eddie’s on the third episode of his self-imposed Scooby-Doo marathon when Steve stumbles down the stairs, yawning wide and wearing only a pair of briefs, and makes himself at home on Eddie’s lap. Eddie grunts at Steve’s weight and readjusts on the sofa, spreading his legs to accommodate his boyfriend and pushing his plate of cookies off to the side before a mess is made.
He wraps his arms around Steve’s back, tickling his fingers across scars and skin. “Morning,” he says, kissing the top of Steve’s messy hair and relishing the sleepy warmth of Steve’s bare chest through his t-shirt.
Steve tucks his face into the hollow of Eddie’s throat and breathes in deep. “Hey,” he replies, deep and dreamy, and sighs as he snuggles closer. He’s heavy on Eddie’s lap and hard against Eddie’s stomach, chubbed up in his boxers even though he came three times last night.
On the TV, the gritty picture of Scooby and Shaggy running from a floating balloon caped in a sheet to make it look like a ghost casts faint colors across Steve’s naked back. Eddie runs his fingers along the knobs of Steve’s spine, playing connect the dots with his freckles as Steve burrows further into Eddie’s arms as if he’s trying to crawl inside Eddie’s body.
Eddie brings one of his hands up and cards his fingers through Steve’s dirty, greasy hair—he’s going to need a shower before work if he doesn’t want Robin to bully him during their shift. “There’s breakfast in the kitchen.”
“Oatmeal?”
Eddie shakes his head. “Eggs.”
“And bacon?”
“Sausage.”
Steve sighs. “Don’t wanna move.” He smears his face into Eddie’s well-worn t-shirt, rubbing his cheek against the chipped lettering. It’s an old shirt, one Wayne purchased at a Stones concert more than a decade ago and gave him to wear to sleep the day he moved in the trailer after this dad was picked up in Oklahoma. He’s loved it ever since. “Don’t wanna do anything at all.”
Eddie laughs, pinching the layer of flesh on Steve’s scarred hip. “You don’t wanna do anything, huh?” he asks, sticking his finger into the waist of Steve’s briefs and pulling it away from his skin. The noise it makes when it snaps back into place is heavenly. “Could’ve fooled me.”
Groaning, Steve lifts his head away from Eddie’s throat and frowns down at him. “Obviously, I want you to make me come, Eddie,” he says—pouts, really, petulant brat that he is when he wants Eddie’s cock.
Eddie narrows his eyes, feigning defiance, but he relents quickly with a grin at the sharp whine that comes from Steve’s throat. “Fine, you big baby,” he says, squeezing Steve’s ass with one hand and knotting his fingers in Steve’s hair with the other. “Turn ‘round, though, and be quiet. I woke up early to watch Scooby and you’re not gonna fuck that up just ‘cause you’re horny.”
Crotchety, Steve huffs—as if he’s the one who woke up at the ass crack of dawn after going three rounds because his boyfriend’s a cum slut who wants to drown in jizz, as if he’s put out and having his favorite cartoon interrupted because his boyfriend is horny and refuses to use his own two hands—but does as Eddie told him, standing and turning and then sitting between Eddie’s spread legs, chest to back. He shoves his fingers in the waist of his briefs, wiggles his hips, and pushes the fabric down and off his legs, kicking it somewhere next to the TV.
Eddie’s so glad Wayne’s spending the weekend out of town with some of his friends from work. He doesn’t think he could handle it if his uncle came in, fresh off a shift, and saw Eddie on the sofa with his naked boyfriend between his legs, giggling and happily waiting to come.
Eddie hooks his chin over Steve’s shoulder and looks down, taking in the view. Steve’s hairy chest is flushed already, just a little bit, and the swell of his stomach trembles as he breathes, soft and freckly. His cock—and, fuck, it’s a pretty cock, okay, average and wide and wet at the tip, and it hits Eddie just right when he rides Steve—sits low on his stomach, nestled in a thatch of dark cherry-brown curls that match the hair on his head.
It’s gorgeous. He’s gorgeous.
Eddie reaches around and strokes across Steve’s lips and Steve opens his mouth, sucking four of Eddie’s fingers inside. He slobbers and drools, wetting Eddie’s hand and making a mess of his chest; when Eddie feels spit begin to collect in the palm of his hand, he removes his fingers and grabs the base of Steve’s dick, dragging his hand up on a dry stroke that elicits a choked moan from Steve.
He kisses Steve’s neck, right where his two favorite freckles are. “Don’t be too loud, Stevie,” he says, pressing his fingertip into the slit of Steve’s dick just to hear the sharp intake of breath he receives in return. “You’ll drown out Daphne.”
Steve gasps. “Fuck you,” he spits, gripping Eddie’s thighs with both hands through the pajama pants he snatched out of Steve’s father’s dresser weeks ago, “and fuck Daphne.”
He laughs and continues to strip Steve’s cock, slow and hard and only half interested in making Steve come because he’s trying to see how the episode ends even if he’s watched it before.
It makes Steve go stupid, the fact that Eddie doesn’t care all that much when or how quickly he reaches his peak, and so he puts on a show, pushing his tits together and mewling and pinching his nipples until they’re red with blood and moaning and pressing his face into Eddie’s cheek.
Eddie’s not entirely unaffected, though, no matter how much he’s trying to give the gang his full attention. There’s something about Steve in throes of pleasure that just grips Eddie by the heart—and the cock—and drives him mad, makes his own cock get fat real fast.
He never imaged he would have Steve Harrington like this, spread out and naked and whining in the back of his throat while Eddie jerks him off to a lazy, late-morning orgasm before work while Scooby “ruh roh Raggy’s” his way to unmasking another monster.
If someone had told him he’d end up like this, he would’ve laughed and said over his dead body. And, well, it almost was over his dead body, really, but Steve’s a stubborn shithead and it was his back Eddie was carried on, his blood Eddie was pumped full of while he was recovering in the hospital, and it was his house that he offered to Eddie and Wayne while the government sorted their shit out, his bed Eddie crawled in to at night when he wanted to be held, his lips Eddie kissed over the kitchen table the morning of the Fourth.
Looking back, maybe it isn’t so unbelievable. Steve’s always been a slut, hungry for an orgasm from anyone who'd give it to him—he’s just Eddie’s slut now.
Shaking his head minutely, he focuses back on Steve. He’s breathing heavily, like he’s run miles just to get here, and his entire torso is flushed pink now, a gorgeous color that he doesn’t wear near enough. His cock leaks at the tip, dribbling pathetically, and his nipples are puffy from his mean treatment and his thighs are trembling and his breath is humid against Eddie’s throat.
“You gonna come, pretty boy?” he teases, nibbling the freckles on Steve’s shoulder and grinning when he hears Steve’s stuttered groan. “Gonna make a mess of my fingers?”
Steve’s hands shoot out; one grips the fabric of Eddie’s pants and the other finds Eddie’s wrist, locking tight. “Eddie—”
“I’ll make you eat it, feed it to you like the king everyone thinks you are,” Eddie says, dragging the sharp point of his nail along the curl of Steve’s vein. “I’ll make you lick your cum off my fingers ‘cause it ain’t nice to make a mess in the living room.”
Steve whimpers, lost to it all and at the very edge of release. “Jesus Christ, Eddie.”
“You’re so wet and messy, Stevie,” he says, licking along Steve’s neck and biting hard enough to leave the imprint of his teeth behind. It looks good, makes a heat in his gut begin to simmer—maybe his next tattoo will be Steve’s bite, if he can convince Steve it’s a good idea. Who needs a wedding ring when you’ve got someone’s bite on you, anyway? “People watch TV here.”
“Fuck you and fuck Scooby, too,” Steve curses, laughs, groans like he’s eaten gravel, and in one, two, three more flicks of Eddie’s wrist he’s shooting off into the palm of Eddie’s hand, whining and mewling like some sort of expensive whore wanting an extra tip.
Eddie holds him through it, mouthing at his skin and sucking red-purple bruises into the juncture of his shoulder and neck. His shirts will hide the marks, for the most part, but Eddie likes to know Steve carries a little something of his with him wherever he goes.
Still quivering, Steve uses the grip he has on Eddie’s wrist to bring Eddie’s hand up to his mouth. He licks the cum from Eddie’s palm, kittenish and eager as he smears the jizz all over his lips.
Eddie gulps and watches Steve eat his own cum, rapt and so fucking in love that nothing in the world can ever touch him. He’ll fight the entirety of the Upside Down again if it has to as long as he ends up right here, right at this moment.
When Steve’s finished feeding himself, he giggles and says, “Tastes good,” as he curls in on himself, sensitive and cum-drunk and malleable after coming.
Eddie swallows. “Looks like lip gloss,” he observes, gathering a bit of the jizz Steve didn’t catch and sucking it off his thumb. He hums. It tastes like shit, salty and grainy and slimy, but Eddie doesn’t say anything because Steve is always kind of vulnerable after he comes.
Eventually, Steve comes down off his high. He tilts his face up, silently asking Eddie for a kiss, and Eddie obliges, licking into Steve’s mouth and sucking the taste of jizz off his tongue till drool spills down their chins and wets Eddie's shirt.
Steve pulls away, sucks the spit that hangs between their mouths, and squirms in Eddie’s lap. “Are you—”
“I’ll be fine.”
Steve makes a noise in the back of his throat. “Lemme sit on it,” he says—begs, really—and stands on legs so shaky Eddie reaches out to hold his hips as he spins and maneuvers back onto Eddie’s lap to face him.
Eddie’s hands move from Steve’s hips to his ass, gripping and kneading the flesh there. “You still stretched from last night?” he asks, pulling Steve’s ass cheeks apart and letting them go just to feel them jiggle.
“A little.”
“It’ll prob’ly hurt.”
Steve shrugs and paws at the crotch of Eddie’s pants. “Want it to,” he says, like it’s no big deal he wants to take Eddie’s cock dry. It’s a nice thought to have—one that’s kept Eddie up a few nights, of course—but they haven’t talked about it as much as they need to and, besides, Steve has work to get to. “I like it when I can feel you after.”
Eddie drops his head back on the couch and groans. “Fuck, you’re perfect,” he says, mostly to himself, but smiles when Steve laughs and opens his mouth when Steve bends and shoves his tongue against Eddie’s lips.
While Steve sucks on his tongue, laving it with his own, Eddie reaches behind him and sticks his hand between the couch cushions, fiddling around until he finds the bottle of slick he hid a few weeks ago. He pulls away from Steve’s tongue and grins, holding up his find.
“Oh my God.”
“What?”
“You hid lube in our couch,” Steve says, taking the bottle form Eddie’s hands and popping the top.
Eddie shrugs and reaches into his pants to pulls his cock out. “Yeah, so?” he asks, hissing at the slight chill on the tip of his dick where it’s wet with precum.
“So what if Wayne finds it?” Steve asks, squeezing a generous dollop of slick into the palm of his hand and then capping the bottle and shoving it back in between the cushions.
“So what if he does?” Eddie says, grunting as Steve lathers his cock in lube, base to tip. “He knows we fuck.”
Steve grumps and lifts up onto his knees, positioning himself over Eddie’s prick. “Can we not talk about your uncle when you’re about to stick me?” he asks, holding his ass cheeks spread while Eddie grips the base of his dick and keeps his length steady. Steve drops low, catching Eddie’s head with his puckered rim.
Shivers crawl up and down Eddie’s spine. “You brought him up,” he reminds Steve, a little breathless, as he feels Steve begin to sink down.
It’s slow and slick, wet and tight—Steve’s still a little bit loose from their screwing last night, yeah, but he isn’t as gaping as he should be and he winces, face twisting up in pain as he takes Eddie’s cock deeper, but he’s a trooper, stubborn and relentless, taught by the town and Eddie, and he does not stop until he’s got Eddie’s length shoved up inside his guts.
Eddie’s eyes cross.
Steve sticks his tongue out, sulky and snappy. “Shut up and kiss me again.”
“Your mouth tastes awful.”
Steve pinches Eddie’s nipple through his t-shirt, twisting the ring there until he gasps. “Just kiss me, you bastard.”
Eddie laughs, delighted to be the one to drive Steve nuts for the rest of time, and surges forward to stick his tongue in Steve’s mouth once again. Steve lets him manhandle him for a moment, soft and yielding, but that all changes when he shifts up and back down, bringing forth a pitiful moan from Eddie that makes him grin.
He lifts up and drops back down, again and again and again, and eats all of the noises Eddie gives him like they’re the last meal he’s ever going to get.
Eddie turns his face away from Steve’s and draws in a few harsh, ragged breaths. “‘M not gonna last long, Stevie,” he says, whispery-soft, as he combs through Steve’s hair and cradles his face.
“S’okay.” Steve smiles, leaning into Eddie’s touch as he swivels his hips, grinding his half-hard cock into Eddie’s abdomen. “Just come in me, yeah?”
“Fuck.” Eddie plants his feet and thrusts up, catching Steve as he drops down. He does this again and again, eyes caught in Steve’s green-brown gaze, and doesn’t catch his orgasm until it’s too late and he’s spilling deep in Steve, hot and branding and obscene, fucking his cum into Steve so hard he thinks he can hear it slosh against his guts. “Fuck, Stevie.”
He grips Steve’s hair in both of his hands and pulls Steve’s smiling mouth down to his. He kisses Steve silly, chaste and messy all at once, and only pushes Steve off and to the side when he keeps gyrating his hips and fucking his cock against Eddie’s tummy like he wants more.
“Steve—”
“Again.”
Eddie blinks. “Huh?”
Steve reaches for Eddie’s sensitive cock and holds it in his hands, cradling it like it’s treasure. “Want another one.”
“Don’t you have work?”
“Yeah,” Steve confirms, blinking owlishly, innocently, “but I want to make a baby with you.”
Eddie goes stupid. All the blood in his brain shoots down south and he’s popping another boner at record speed at the expense of a sudden nosebleed.
He can’t see or breathe—all he can think about is Steve, fat with a baby, their baby, and it isn’t logical, of course, and Eddie’s made his peace with the fact that he’ll never have biological children, but, fuck, the idea of screwing Steve like they’re trying to make a kid itches a primal, archaic need deep in his gut that he never recognized before.
He wipes his nose and stares at Steve. He's red and pink and every color in between, grinning like a brat and playing with his pretty cock.
“Unless you don’t have it in you, Munson,” Steve talks again before Eddie can get his brain back on track. “One and done? Can’t even give your boyfriend a baby like he wants?” He sneers and pats Eddie’s stomach. “What a goddamn shame.”
Eddie draws in a breath that feels like needles in his lungs as his brain finally catches up with the rest of his body. He lashes out with one arm, grabbing Steve around the neck, and shoves Steve into the back of the couch. He leers over Steve, hot and half-hard and spiraling, and compresses on Steve’s throat just enough to make him gasp and go wide-eyed.
Steve smiles up at him like he’s won the best prize of all.
“I’ll show you, Harrington,” he spits, leaning low and biting hatefully at Steve’s chin. When he leans away, he sees the mark left behind from his canine. “You fucking brat, always runnin’ your mouth like you don't get everything you want.”
Steve cackles, laughing like a little kid. “Oh, yeah?” He lifts up and butts his forehead against Eddie’s. “Prove it.”
Provoked, Eddie lets go of Steve’s throat and slaps his cheek once, twice, three times in quick succession, and watches, mesmerized, as Steve’s face colors an even brighter pink and his eyes get wet with tears. “You’re so pretty when you’re about to cry,” he says and drops down, slurping his tongue into Steve’s mouth before crawling off and standing, pulling Steve along with him. “Upstairs, pretty boy. Now.”
Steve smirks, nods, grabs Eddie’s hand in his, and takes off up the stairs, turning to the right and then racing down to the end of the corridor where his bedroom is. He slams through the door, giggling, and finds Eddie’s mouth with his.
They kiss, sloppy and hurried like two fumbling teens hiding beneath the bleachers in the gym, and Eddie lets Steve fuck his mouth with his tongue, lets Steve shove his pajama pants to the floor and help him out of the mess of cotton tangled around his feet.
He stumbles, and Steve laughs, and he shoves Steve backward onto the unmade bed as he removes his shirt. He bounces, caught up in loose sheets and thin blankets, and sprawls out, putting his body on display. Yellow sunlight filters through the curtains and drags across Steve’s body, making him shine like a diamond.
Steve’s beautiful, objectively so. He’s tall and thick and wide; his shoulders are broad and his waist his small and his hips swell, and he’d look hot as fuck if he was pregnant with their baby, fat and covered in stretch marks. Freckles and scars scatter his torso and legs, pink and brown and white and mottled colors swirled together, little constellations and galaxies on his body that drive Eddie wild because he’s the only one who gets to see Steve so vulnerable and on display.
He smiles. “Face down and ass up, pretty boy.”
Steve pouts. “But I wanna see you.”
“Don’t you want my baby?” He kneels on the foot of the bed and puts his hand on Steve’s stomach, pressing in. It’s muscular and soft, giving beneath the pressure. “All the old ladies at bingo said it sticks the first time when they got it from behind.”
Steve’s eyes go wide and it makes Eddie laugh. His boyfriend can give it out, but he can’t take it when it’s returned with equal fervor.
Eddie flicks Steve’s hip, helping him flip up and over. Pillows are grabbed and blankets are adjusted until Steve’s got a nice little nest shoved up under him for the best support. He’s face down and ass up, just as Eddie ordered, and, fuck, he looks delicious, like Eddie’s final supper.
Coquettishly, Steve looks over his shoulder and bats his eyelashes like a little slut who knows exactly what he’s about to get. “See something you like?”
Eddie says nothing and instead reaches out to grab a handful of Steve’s ass. He pinches and pulls, exposing Steve’s winking hole, and grins when he sees a little dollop of his cum sneak out past the loose rim.
“Your hole’s so pink, baby,” he says, leaning down and lapping his tongue on the rim. Steve moans and jerks forward, held in place by Eddie’s grip as licks at his hole for a few long, languid moments before pulling away and slapping Steve’s ass. “You ready?”
Steve nods and buries his face in the pillows; he says something incoherent, speaking directly into the bed.
Eddie slaps his ass again. “Didn’t catch that, pretty boy.”
Steve huffs, turning his face to the side. “I said,” he begins, haughty and demanding and impishly, and, oh, Eddie’s gonna fuck that attitude right out of him, “that you’re taking too long.”
“You’re such a fucking brat,” Eddie says, digging his fingernails into Steve’s ass. He pulls away, pleased with the crescent shapes left behind next to the green-yellow-purple bruise he put there a week ago. “One of these days I'm gonna whip you till you come."
"Promise?"
Eddie snorts. "Of course, pretty boy." He pats Steve's plump ass. "Hold yourself open.”
Steve reaches behind with both hands and grips his ass, spreading his cheeks wide. His hole puckers and pouts, gaping from last night’s activities and Eddie’s cock minutes before; a bit of jizz slips out again, pearly white against the dusky pink, and Eddie takes a moment to gather it on the tip of two fingers so he can shove it back inside.
Cum can’t be wasted if Steve wants a baby, of course.
He walks further on the bed, settling his knees between Steve’s thighs and keeping him low and spread wide. Fisting his cock, he gives himself two fast strokes, hissing at the oversensitivity that burns so good at the head, and holds the length steady as he leans forward and breaches the rim of loose muscle.
He sinks inside all the way, fast and deep, and has the nostalgic feeling of coming home—as if his cock belongs in Steve’s ass and yeah, maybe it does, maybe that’s the reason they fit so fucking well together in every way and especially this one, and Eddie’s so goddamn glad he held on long enough to make it to the hospital because dying without knowing what Steve’s ass feels like would have been devastating.
“Jesus Christ, Ed,” Steve spits out, reaffirming his grip on his ass cheeks. “You’re so fucking big.”
“Yeah?” Eddie preens and leans over Steve’s body, splaying his front along Steve’s back and giving Steve a harsh, shallow thrust that has the both of them breathless. “You like my big cock in your tiny pussy?”
“Eddie,” Steve whimpers, pathetically, and looks over his shoulder at Eddie like he needs to be saved. “S’not a pussy, Eddie.”
“Sure it is.” Gleeful, Eddie sticks a finger in Steve’s hole alongside his cock and watches the gape, the stretch of muscles and wonders wildly if Steve will ever let him put his whole fist inside. “It’s my pretty pussy, babygirl.”
Steve gasps and squirms, fucking back onto Eddie's dick even though his face is twisted in some sort of fresh denial. “Don’t say—”
“Don’t say what?” Eddie wiggles his finger further in and fucks forward again, harder and deeper, and chuckles against Steve’s shoulder as Steve begins to shake and whine. “Don’t you like my cock in your pussy, babygirl? Huh? I know you like when my cock fills your pussy up so nice ‘cause nobody can do it better than me.”
Steve trembles beneath the onslaught of Eddie’s movements, redder than the cherries he refuses to share with Eddie. “Call me that again.”
Eddie grins, amused at how easy it is to bring forth Steve’s slutty nature—just a few mean words and Steve starts to practically gag for it, tongue out and drool wetting the pillowcase. “Are you my babygirl, Stevie?” he teases, removing his finger. “My babygirl has the prettiest pussy in all of Hawkins and I’m the son of a bitch that gets to see it and eat it and fuck it. Can’t believe anyone ever thought you were the king of the town when it’s so clearly me.”
The noise that Steve lets go of sounds pained and haggard, as if he’s fighting for his life. “Fuck, Eddie,” he says, dragging the curse word out as Eddie fucks into him through every syllable. “Want you to knock me up. Want you to give me a baby, please.”
A shock electrocutes Eddie’s tailbone and he falls atop Steve, pressing him down with all of his weight; his eyes cross and he fucks in and out, in and out, and revels as Steve’s hole strips his cock for all it's worth. Because, yeah, nobody in Hawkins—or the world, really—can fuck Steve like he does but there’s also nobody who can take his cock like Steve, either, wet and whiny for it every hour of the day.
“Jesus Christ, Stevie,” he swears, smearing his mouth along the top knot of Steve’s spine. He lifts up, just a bit, and braces one hand on the bed next to Steve’s head. With the other, he grips Steve’s neck, digging his nails into the tender skin at the bend. “You want me to fill up your pretty pussy with my cum, babygirl?”
Steve nods and howls as Eddie picks up his strokes, faster and harder and deeper. His cockhead catches on Steve’s prostate, rubbing against the nerve on every thrust so finely Steve’s legs begin to shake like there’s an earthquake in his body.
“Say it.”
Steve shakes his head.
Eddie presses down on his neck. "Say it, babygirl," he says again. "Say you want me to fill up your pretty pussy."
Steve sobs. “Want you—” he begins, stops, has to draw in a breath that Eddie just fucks right back out of him. “Want you to fill my pretty pussy up, Ed.”
“Fuck, you’re gonna look so good, pretty and fat with our baby. My baby.” He moves his hand off Steve’s neck and into his hair, twisting his fingers until they’re knotted. “‘M gonna make you a momma, Stevie.”
Beneath him, Steve’s body seizes and then jerks. He cries into the pillows, bucking against the mound of blankets shoved under his hips. “I’ll be a good momma,” he whines, as if Eddie ever had any doubt. “I’ll be such a good momma to your babies.”
“I know you will, babygirl, ‘cause you’re so good to me,” Eddie soothes and drops a quick kiss onto Steve’s neck, fond and terribly turned on. “Taking me so well, like your pussy's made for me. Gonna come in you and make you so big.”
“Yeah. Yeah, Ed, make me fat with your baby.”
Eddie thinks about it for a moment, blocking physical sensation out of his mind. There’s no way he and Steve are ever going to be able to conceive a child with one another, sure, because neither one of them have the right parts, but damn, damn, thinking of Steve fat with their kid, his kid, and waddling around the house wearing nothing but big t-shirts and holding his stomach and being so sensitive, being fucked so good and begging Eddie to be gentle, to touch him tender because he feels too much, too big and too overwhelmed, and cries whenever Eddie gets a little mean with it, makes Eddie almost blow his load.
He pulls out of Steve, shushing Steve’s whimpers of displeasure, and flips Steve over onto his back. Like a good babygirl, Steve grabs his knees and pulls his legs up till his thighs are flush with his stomach and he’s on view for Eddie to see, wanton and whorish and wet and pink, Eddie's favorite color.
“So fuckin’ perfect, babygirl,” Eddie praises and sticks his cock back inside Steve’s hole, sighing as wet warmth envelops him. “Your pussy’s so wet for me, like a good little slut.”
Steve throws his head back against the pillows and shuts his eyes; his teeth dig into his bottom lip so hard pink turns to red and red turns to purple. His blush runs the length of his body, coloring his entire chest red and the tops of his legs pink, and his tits jiggle on every thrust. He looks debauched, wet with sweat and cum and other fluids, and it just makes Eddie fuck him harder.
And harder and harder and harder until he feels that tickle in his balls that warns him he’s about to come.
He doesn’t ignore it this time, opting to drop down and press his mouth against Steve’s ear. Steve’s so hot with his lust that his skin burns Eddie’s lips.
“Gonna come in your pussy again, babygirl. Gonna fill you up till you drip with me and make you call me daddy.”
Steve lets go of his legs and wraps his arms around Eddie’s shoulders. He arches deep, bowing up off the bed, and lets out a long, shredded wail of a moan that sounds like a man dying; against their stomachs, Steve’s cock jumps, and a second later wet heat slathers their skin.
Eddie leans up and blinks, slowing down. “Did you—”
Steve laughs, blubbers, “Yeah, Ed,” and wraps his legs around Eddie’s hips to keep him locked inside. “Keep going.”
“But—”
“But you promised me, Eddie,” Steve sulks and reaches down to splay a big hand on the slight swell of his stomach, holding there as if there’s already a baby inside. His fingers play in his cum, drawing ugly designs in the pearly white jizz. “You promised you’d give me a baby.”
Eddie swallows. “It’ll hurt.”
“I want it to.” He grins and licks the cum he’s gathered off his finger, sighing at the taste as if it’s a delicacy to savor. It isn’t, but Eddie stays quiet. “Give it to me. Make me hurt.”
Stupid with it, Eddie does as he’s told. He bends low once more, putting his mouth to Steve’s ear again, and fucks into him, hard and deep and fast. He makes sure to hit Steve’s prostate, abusing the nerve like his babygirl wants, and lets Steve hear his moans because Steve’s body makes him feel so fucking good.
He says, “Fuck, babygirl,” and, “I love your pussy,” and, “Gonna be feelin’ this for days, Stevie,” and, “How many times do you think I gotta fill you up before it sticks?” and, “I’ll fuck you all day if that’s what it takes,” and, “‘M gonna make you carry my baby,” and, “Keep you on my cock for hours, babygirl,” and, “Fuck, your pussy just can’t get enough, can it?” and whatever else comes to mind that he thinks he ought to share with Steve as the knot of fire in the pit of his stomach begins to grow.
Tears of oversensitivity leak down the sides of Steve’s face. Eddie licks them away and thanks Steve for giving him such a gift.
“You’re so deep, Eddie,” Steve whimpers, voice clogged with snot and tears. “I can feel you in my guts.” He sticks his hand between their bodies and presses down on his stomach at the same time Eddie slides home once more, jolting a visceral and untamed reaction from Eddie.
Gasping, Eddie rears back and looks at Steve’s stomach. He’s still pushing down, depressing his tummy, and just below his pinky Eddie sees the indention of his cock shoved up deep inside his guts, just like Steve said.
“Holy fuck.”
Eddie thrusts once more, twice more, grunts, and then comes. It hurts, kind of, but the pain feels nice and he draws it out, giving minute bucks of his hips that push his cock and cum deeper into Steve’s guts. Steve whimpers and holds Eddie close, combing his fingers through Eddie’s messy hair and bringing Eddie’s cheek down against his chest.
He goes along with Steve’s prompting and tucks his head up under Steve’s chin, close enough that he can feel Steve’s heartbeat. It’s fast and loud, Eddie’s favorite song after he didn’t think he’d hear it ever again.
After Eddie’s caught his breath, he says, “That was something.”
Steve nods, butting his chin into the top of Eddie’s head with the movement. “Sure was,” he agrees, chuckling. “Felt you up in my guts good.”
“Wanna stay there forever,” he admits, licking sweat off the top of his lip. “Would, too, if you’d let me.”
“Know you would ‘cause you tell me every time.” Steve hums. “You really want me to call you daddy?”
Eddie shrugs. “If you want to,” he says. “S’not that big of a big deal.”
“I like the idea of it,” Steve confesses, airy and faraway, as if he’s lost in his thoughts. “You’d make a good one.”
“A good what?”
“A good daddy.”
Eddie groans. “Call Robin,” he says.
Steve coughs. “Huh?”
“Call Robin,” Eddie says again, bracing his arms on either side of Steve’s head and pushing himself up so he can meet Steve’s eyes, “and tell her you won’t be able to make it in to work today.”
“Why?”
Eddie rolls his eyes. “We’re gonna spend all day in bed trying to give you that baby you want,” he says, pushing Steve’s messy hair off his forehead.
Steve furrows his brow. “What about Scooby Doo?”
Eddie scoffs and says, “Fuck Scooby Doo,” probably a little bit too hateful considering it’s the cartoon that raised him, and Steve laughs and reaches up and cradles Eddie’s face in his hands and brings him down for a kiss that doesn’t last long because they can’t stop smiling and giggling and yeah, fucking his boyfriend is a better way to spend his Saturday than marathoning a TV show about a talking dog and four fruity kids who solve mysteries and save the world.